Fourth Sunday after Epiphany Sermon

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Jesu Juva

“Surprised by Such Love”

Text: Mark 1:21-28

Note: The idea for this sermon, some of the words, and many of the thoughts, from Rev. James Bushur in Concordia Pulpit Resources, Vol. 22, Part 1 (2011-12), p. 34-36, 39.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

Some people like surprises; some people don’t. Some people like everything orderly and planned out and thought through; some like to just go out and see what happens. Some people don’t like when the unexpected happens; for others, it brings spice and excitement to life.

St. Matthew and his Gospel, we could say, are like those people who don’t like surprises; who like things orderly and thought through. For when you hear Matthew, you hear how everything is going according to plan. How Jesus is fulfilling the Old Testament. How Jesus’ life has already been mapped out by Moses and Israel and how what had been prophesied is coming to pass.

St. Mark and his Gospel, however, are the opposite. Mark likes surprises. He delights in the unexpected turn of events and the unforeseen bend in the road. Mark wants you to be amazed; that in Jesus there is something unprecedented, unexpected, and utterly new. He doesn’t contradict Matthew and his orderliness; Mark just gives us a different perspective - the Jesus who surprises, astonishes, and even confuses.

So it was that day in the synagogue in Capernaum. The people went to church that day expecting the expected, the usual order, the normal teaching and kind of teaching. But what they got was astonished and amazed. Not only because Jesus taught with an authority never before heard, but they got a front row seat to the clash between heaven and hell. The contest between Christ and satan. The normally calm teaching and peaceful atmosphere suddenly turned into a shouting match. And then just as quickly was over. And after a few moments, after the shock wore off and the people began to shuffle out of the synagogue, the questions began. What had they just seen? What had they just heard? What in the world was going on, and here, in little old Capernaum? Amazing!

But as shocked and surprised as the people were, there is perhaps no one more astonished and amazed at Jesus than the devil and his demons. 

How long did this man have this unclean spirit? How often had he come to the synagogue? Had he been causing trouble for some time? But this day, when he walks into the synagogue, he walks into a surprise. This is no mere scribe, teacher, or rabbi! That the unclean spirit could handle. That he could disrupt. Of them he had no fear. But this one was different. And so the demon cries out: Ack! What are you doing here? What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God.

Why are the demons surprised? Are they surprised at the power and authority of the Son of God? No, that they knew. Are they confused at having to submit to the Creator of heaven and earth? No, that they expect. But they are amazed to hear that voice - the voice that created all things, the voice that cursed them in the Garden, the voice that spoke to Moses from the burning bush, the voice that sounded forth at Mt. Sinai - they were utterly astounded that that voice was now coming from this man! Jesus . . . of Nazareth. The “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Nazareth. You can almost hear the scorn in their voice . . .

So it wasn’t just because of who Jesus was or where He was from, it was that the voice of God was sounding forth from a flesh and blood man! A weak, frail, man. This was new. This was . . . crazy! For human beings, according to the demonic playbook, are merely play things, something to be possessed and controlled, dominated and consumed. They do not expect the authority of God to sound forth from a human tongue. They do not expect life and healing to proceed from the touch of human flesh. They do not expect the Son of God to submit Himself to the diseases, sicknesses, and weakness of man. So that the Son of God would be here and do this, like this . . . and show such dignity and love to mankind . . . this was not just new, it was repulsive. It made them hate God even more.

But really, this is how God has been all along - even though we might not see it or want to believe it. For we want to be loved because we’re loveable, right? Because there’s something that makes us worthy and good. But it is not so with God. And that’s what’s so amazing . . .

Think of Job and his so-called friends. Job’s friends surely believe in God, but they are utterly surprised and slow to admit that this God could love the poor, diseased beggar in front of them.

Or how about Jacob’s sons - they certainly believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and their father Jacob, but they bristle at the idea and cannot comprehend the fact that this God favors their spoiled little brother named Joseph.

And what about Pharaoh? Pharaoh is compelled to acknowledge the power of Moses’ God after all those plagues. But it is not God’s power that amazes and confounds him - of course gods are powerful! It is that he is utterly astonished that this almighty God is on the side of Israel, that He loves slaves!

The demons, too. God’s power they know. But this love of sinful, despised, lowly, foul, weak men and women . . . they cannot handle it.

But there’s even more! It wasn’t just who Jesus was and where He was from, it wasn’t just the Son of God in human flesh, it was this too - the demons expect Jesus to gain the victory by means of violence, power, and domination. The demons expect Jesus to act towards them in the same way as they treat humanity. Have you come to destroy us? They expect it to be so. It is all they know. This is what you do.

So they are triply surprised! For Jesus’ mission is not to destroy demons, it is not to exercise His almighty power - but to save and cleanse humanity by the weakness of the cross. Destruction is all the demons know. But the Son of God has come to give, not take. To give life, to cleanse, to forgive, to raise, to save. 

And so He saves this man. Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying out with a loud voice, came out of him. And this man has a new life.

Mark begins his Gospel this way, with these words: The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God (Mark 1:1). What we hear from Mark, stories like we heard today, are only the beginning. The three years of Jesus’ ministry are only the beginning. These are the first steps of a long journey. A journey Jesus makes throughout Galilee, Judea, and Samaria, and a journey through death and the grave to life, but a journey that continues. For Jesus’ work continues. For Jesus is still giving life, cleansing, forgiving, raising, and saving. Just now through His church.

This surprises many people today, just as much as the people and the demons of Jesus’ day! For look at the church - divided as she is, filled with sinners and hypocrites, often small and weak and wracked with scandal. Who can believe that the voice of the living God sounds forth from such a church? Who can believe that God would love such people as this? And lower Himself in such a way, to such depths? Surely, this is not so. Can you hear how such thoughts echo the demonic attitude and astonishment?

But it is so. As surely as the voice of God sounded forth from Jesus, so does His voice sound forth today, proclaiming the forgiveness of sins, speaking the cleansing of Holy Baptism, preaching the Gospel of God’s love for such lowly, weak, and foul human beings as you and I, and asserting the utterly amazing reality that this bread and wine are - at the power of the Word of God - the Body and Blood of Jesus of Nazareth. And though many may scorn these truths, Mark wants you to revel in this surprise! That you, yes you, are disgusting Job, you are spoiled Joseph, you are enslaved Israel, and you are the one with the unclean spirit - and the perfect, holy, God of all creation, loves you, comes for you, serves you, and saves you. Maybe the world thinks nothing of you and even rejects you as one not worthy of love or life, but not God. Instead He comes to give His life for yours, to give you dignity, value, and life. How utterly amazing is that?

And this too - in a world filled with the violence, power, and domination of the demonic and unclean, we do not treat others the way that we are treated. This is no longer all we know. For we know the love of Christ, and this love is given to us, that we may give it to others. Like Paul wrote about today in the reading from First Corinthians that we heard. That we not push down, but lift up. Not dominate, but serve. Not take, but give. A new life, a new way of life, given to us  How utterly amazing is that?

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. The battle ground between heaven and hell, between Christ and satan, running still through every Christian, every church, all around the world. The struggle to repent and to confess an astonishing God who is unlike anything in this world, and so utterly unlike us. Who surprises us with His love - His forgiveness, His discipline, His ways, His choosing. And who amazes us at the end - that the road to God leads through a cross and tomb.

That’s not the God some want, and so they will mock and scorn Him, or deny Him in favor of a more glorious, successful, popular god. 

But Mark wants you to know, as the people of Capernaum learned and as the demons found out that day - your God is a pretty surprising, amazing, astonishing God. The road of your journey will surely twist and turn and have many unexpected bends. But at the end will be something unprecedented and completely new - the ending of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The resurrection, the new heavens, new earth, and new you. The God who came to be with you taking you to be with Him. No longer unclean, but clean. No longer enslaved, but free. Won not by His power, but by the power of His love. 

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Third Sunday after Epiphany and Sanctity of Life Sunday Sermon

Sanctity of Life Sunday

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Jesu Juva

“The Fisher of Men”

Text: Mark 1:14-20; Jonah 3:1-5, 10

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

Follow me, and I will make you become fishermen of men.

Who was the first fisherman of men? Was it Simon? Was it Andrew? Mark, in his usual pithy way, makes it sound like Jesus called them together, at the same time. John gives us a little more detail, telling us that Jesus called Andrew first, and Andrew went and got his brother Simon. Andrew gets the nod historically, too, as his is always the first saint day commemorated every church year.

So the answer? Well, it was neither of them.

The answer I want to tell you is that the first fisher of a man wasn’t even a man! That the first fisher of a man was the great fish that fished Jonah out of the sea and swallowed him, after Jonah refused to go to Nineveh and preach the Word God told him to preach. That’s a good story and would be a good answer. But no, it wasn’t the great fish either.

In fact, for the answer, you have to go all the way back, to the very beginning, and realize the real, the true, the first fisherman of men is God Himself. And we could be more specific and say the Son of God himself. The Son of God even before He took on human flesh in His incarnation. 

For it was God, God the Son, who fished Adam and Eve out of their hiding in the Garden and hooked them with His forgiveness and His promise to make right what they had messed up. To send a Saviour, which would be He Himself.

It was God, God the Son, who fished Abram out of his idolatry in the land of Ur of the Chaldees.

It was God, God the Son, who fished Israel out of their slavery in Egypt.

It was God, God the Son, who fished for Israel time and again throughout the time of the Judges, when they kept falling away from Him.

It was God, God the Son, who sent Jonah to fish for the Ninevites, as we read in the Old Testament reading, and who worked through Jonah’s word to catch them. 

And with the word of all the other prophets, too.

And then, in the fullness of time, God, God the Son, now in human flesh and given the name Jesus, comes to Simon, Andrew, James, and John, and eventually to eight more, and says: Follow me, and I will make you become fishermen of men. Or in other words: You will become like me. You will do what I have been doing from the very beginning. I will now use you as I used others.

For that’s what “follow me” meant - it was an apprenticeship, of sorts. They would go with Jesus wherever He went. They would listen to Him, learn from Him, imitate Him, and eventually do what He did. 

So they followed. And they saw and heard Jesus fishing and catching men, women, and children, and give them life.

They saw Jesus go on His own March for Life to a town called Nain and raise a widow’s only son back to life.

They saw Jesus love children and not try to get rid of them, but call them, welcome them, and bless them.

They saw Jesus love and welcome and give life to people no one else wanted, people whom the world thought they’d be better off without - like Mary Magdalene, from whom He expelled seven demons.

They saw Jesus love and heal and give life to people with birth defects, like the man born blind.

They saw Jesus not avoid, but visit and give life to the sick and elderly - like Peter’s mother-in-law.

They saw Jesus feed and give life to the hungry, over 5,000 at once, one time.

They saw Jesus give life by casting the demons out of a man which were trying to kill him, casting him into fire and otherwise abusing him. 

They saw Jesus give life to a woman who maybe today would be given drugs to end her life of suffering, for bleeding for twelve long years was she.

They saw Jesus not ignore or pass by the homeless, but cleanse the lepers and give them life again.

And on and on we could go from just what we learn from the Gospels, which, John tells us, is just a fraction of all that Jesus did (John 21:25). But it’s all about life. Jesus giving life. Fishing for men, women, and children drowning in the darkness of sin and the shadow of death, and giving them life.

And we could add to this list that the Son of God has fished you out of your idolatry, out of your sin and death and given you life. Through the water and Word of Holy Baptism, Jesus has come to you, dead in sin, and made you alive in Him. 

And on this Sanctity of Life Sunday, that’s the Epiphany for us today - that Jesus is the fisherman of men for life. For fish - they’re caught alive and then wind up in the frying pan. But we’re in the frying pan of sin and condemnation already, and Jesus fishes us out for life. 

Not that it’s easy. Fishing often takes patience. And you can fish in different ways. Sometimes for one fish at a time, with a hook. Sometimes for many fish at a time, with a net. And sometimes you catch and sometimes you don’t. The Spirit of God, working through the Word of God, works when and where He wills, as Jesus told Nicodemus (John 3:8). But work He does.

The thing is . . . He’s not the only one fishing. Satan is, too. For just as Jesus wants every life for Himself, so too does satan want every life for himself. To lure us and catch us and put us back into the frying pan of sin and condemnation. And He’s good at His job. He caught Adam and Eve in the beginning, and he caught the entire city of Nineveh - not a small city; three days journey across! Until God, the Son of God, went fishing there. Fishing with a net named Jonah, who proclaimed: Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown! And God caught a lot of fish that day.

So some years later, satan tried the same tactic . . . sort of. He went fishing for Jesus. Yet forty days, and Jesus shall be overthrown! might have been the thought going through his mind as he tempted Jesus in the wilderness for forty days and forty nights. But Jesus did not take satan’s bait. Jesus would die a condemned sinner’s death on the cross - but not because satan caught Him, but to crush satan’s head, as He had promised Adam and Eve in the Garden. Not to be swallowed by death, but to swallow up death forever (1 Corinthians 15:54-57). And so win and provide life for all.

And so we prayed today for that life, for us and for all people. For we prayed: Almighty and everlasting God, mercifully look upon our infirmities and stretch forth the hand of Your majesty to heal and defend us (Collect for Epiphany 3). Now, that prayer doesn’t use the word life, but it could have! For we could just as easily have said, instead of to heal and defend us, this: to give us life. Heal us from the poison of sin with Your forgiveness, to give us life. Defend us from the satanic fisher that we not be caught by him and die, but keep us in Your life. Stretch forth the hand of Your majesty - the one at Your right hand, Your Son, Jesus! - and just as You have been from the beginning, catch us and all people for life. 

And so God, the Son of God, is doing. Healing, defending, giving life. Simon, Andrew, James, John, and eight others were caught, then followed, and then fished. Those who came after them did the same. And down through the ages to us. That all may have life. The twelve had to learn that, and so do we. What Jesus taught them, what Jesus showed them, that every life is worth the life of the Son of God. For He laid down His life for all, none excepted. Satan thinks a bit differently; that every life is a life to consume. For him to consume.

So, in our world today, where do you think we are? Thinking more like Jesus, or more like satan? That every life is worth the life of the Son of God and so our life, or do we consume? Or are there are criteria to determine who’s worth it and who’s not; who has value and who doesn’t? Perhaps we’re somewhere in the middle, but . . . trending right? Trending wrong? And what’s the criteria? It keeps changing and seems to get more complicated every day. 

Perhaps that is a warning sign to us, when things get complicated. Because Jesus’ criteria is easy: every life, bar none, worth His own. 

And so it is. And you and I, we’ve been caught, not because we met some criteria of worthiness or value - NO! But purely by grace. All gift. All God. 

And so it is, too, with our fishing. Every life worth the life of the Son of God. So we’ll keep filling baby bottles during Lent, we’ll keep marching through the streets of DC every year, we’ll keep visiting and caring for the elderly and homebound, we’ll look at disruptive children not as nuisances, but as those who need our care, we’ll have compassion on the disabled and homeless, we’ll speak for those who cannot speak for themselves, and we’ll speak against the consumption of life, whether in the womb of out of the womb; the youngest of the young or the oldest of the old, or anywhere in between. We’ll keep fishing for life. We’ll keep fishing with life.

Does it make a difference? Bottles filled year after year, 45 years of marching, speaking to those who don’t want to listen. Does it make any difference at all? Yes. But that’s a faith answer. We may never get to see, the nets may always seem empty. But the Spirit works when and where He wills, and we rely on the promise of God. We do the fishing, He will do the catching. Whether you’re a blue collar fisherman (like Simon), a white collar tax collector (like Matthew), or a renegade prophet still wiping the fish slime from his arms. Just as He caught you, so He will catch others.

And if we’re rebellious, like Jonah, or reluctant, or just plain sinful, it is not a great fish that God sends to swallow us and change us - He now, instead, gives His Body and Blood for us to swallow, to change us with the forgiveness and life we need. That with the kingdom of God at hand, here, literally in our hands, we repent and believe. We repent and receive. We repent and live.

For that is why Jesus came. For Life. Or as He would later say: The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy - to consume. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10). And so it is. And from Garden to cross to glory, He won’t stop.

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Baptism of Our Lord Sermon

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Jesu Juva

“Baptized for a Greater Life”

Text: Mark 1:4-11; Romans 6:1-11; Genesis 1:1-5

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

John appeared, baptizing in the wilderness and proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

John appeared in the wilderness. The wilderness. A place isolated and lonely, a wild and unruly and dangerous place. What, would you say, where, would you say, is such a place, such a wilderness, in our world today? A place where would John go today with his message of forgiveness? Well, there are probably many you could think of, but one, I think, might be a prison.

So imagine . . . Imagine if our president, who as president has full power to completely pardon anyone he wants, went to the highest security prison we have. The place where they lock up the worst of the worst, the really bad criminals. He appears there one day with a pile of pardons. And all who come and confess may have one. But don’t deny your sin. Don’t tell him you’re innocent and have been locked up wrongfully. If you do, no pardon for you. What do you think would happen?

Well, a number of things, I suppose. Certainly, there would be those eager to confess and receive this pardon and be set free. But I think also there would be those who were indignant at having to confess; too prideful to lower themselves to him. There might be some who know their guilt and feel they don’t deserve such a pardon. And there would undoubtedly be an outcry from those outside the prison at such horrible people being set free. They don’t deserve it, and we don’t want them back on our streets. I think John had all those kinds of people and had to face all of that.

But what if our president then went to the town the prison was in with another set of pardons, but these to forgive the debts and taxes owed by those in the town. At the stroke of his pen they’d be gone. Do you think that would change some attitudes?

But here, too, there would be those who object. They must pay what they owe! How can the town run if taxes are not paid? You cannot just pardon people. You cannot just forgive. You cannot just set free. I’m sure John faced those attitudes as well. You can’t just baptize, John. You can’t just forgive like that. But it did not stop him. He had a gift to give, and he was going to give it. To all. To those whose sins were great and to those whose debts were small. He made no distinction. For the one who sent him made no distinction.

But John also preached. He had a message to proclaim along with this gift. That if you think this pardon is great, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! There’s another one coming, mightier than I, greater than I. So much so that I cannot even come to him on hands and knees and take off his grubby sandals! He’s coming with an even greater gift, an ever greater baptism. For I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.

The baptism of this greater one gives forgiveness, yes, but this too: a new spirit. His Spirit. A holy Spirit. That, as Paul said, you no longer be enslaved to sin. Or maybe we would say it this way today: that you be no longer addicted to sin. That you now have a new mind to think a new way, a new heart with new desires, and a new life to live. That forgiveness be much more than just getting out of jail or out of debt, but the beginning of a whole new life. A holy life, with a holy spirit.

And then this mightier one, this greater one, came. He came to John and was baptized by him. And the greater happened. Unlike all the other baptisms that John had been doing, when Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened, this Spirit descended upon Him in the form of a dove, and a voice from heaven announced what it all meant: You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.

Now, on the one hand, such a statement makes sense. The Father has been well pleased in the Son from eternity. But on the other hand, it is strange. For the Son is here receiving the baptism of the sinner. The Son, who is absolutely free, subject to none, has no debt, and has broken no laws, goes into the prison and lines up with the prisoners for pardon. And the Father is not only okay with, but pleased with that?

Yes. For with this the Son is not receiving a pardon He doesn’t need, just pretending to be a prisoner. Jesus is fulfilling His office - His office as the Christ, the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Saviour. By virtue of his office, the President of the United States has the authority to pardon. By virtue of His office, Jesus has the authority to come and take the place of the prisoners. Not just to pretend to be one, but to become one. To become us. To take our place. To take our guilt, all the time in prison, all the debt that is owed, the condemnation for all of us on death row, and make it His own. He’ll pay it for us, to set us free. And to set us free not only from our sin but from our addiction to sin. That we be not just prisoners set free, sinners forgiven - but prisoners made into upright citizens; sinners made sons of God, by the power of the Holy Spirit.

That’s why Paul asks the question: What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? Or to phrase that a little differently: What are we saying here? That getting out of jail we can return to a life of crime and not worry about it because we know there’s forgiveness? That we can now sin as much as we want because we’ll just be able to walk of jail again and again and again? No way! he says. By no means! That’s not it at all. That is to ignore completely what Jesus has done for us and the gift of the Holy Spirit He has for us. That is to think of baptism today as still just the baptism of John - the lesser baptism, if we could say it that way - and not the greater baptism, the baptism of Jesus. The baptism which not only forgives and sets us free, but gives us also a new life to live. A Spirit-led life. Not just a better life, but a greater life.

For I think there’s a difference. Most people want a better life, but what that means is quite different. It might mean moving from prison to a homeless shelter, from a homeless shelter to a place of your own, from an apartment to a house, from a lower paying job to a higher paying one, from being single to being married, from being married to having children, from working to retirement - and the list could go on and on. Yet for some, these very things could be seen as not better - but more responsibility, more inconvenience, more time consumed, more worries. Better is a matter of opinion. And better changes. 

But a greater life - how many of us think of that? A life that’s greater than just you and your wants and desires. Greater than your better. We often use sin to get what we think is better; but sin doesn’t give us a greater life. It can’t. Not this kind of greater. It makes us less. Ask Adam and Eve. They reached for better; they got lesser. They didn’t get greater; they got death.

Jesus came to change that. Jesus came to the Jordan to change that. Jesus was baptized to change that. And Jesus baptizes you to change that. 

When Jesus is baptized, the greater one becomes the least, so that we who are least may become greater. That we not have just better lives, but greater ones. Ones filled not with sin, but filled with God and His greatness. The greatness not of selfishness but of love. The greatness not of being served but serving others. The greatness not of being able to do whatever we want but of doing what is good. The greatness not of being led around on satan’s leash, but led by the Spirit given to us. Not addicted to sin, but alive in Christ. 

A greater life. A significant life. A better life is not necessarily a significant life. In fact, it may be quite insignificant; quite self-centered and small.

But when you’re there for a friend in need, when you help your parents, when you take care of your children, when you forgive someone who has deeply hurt you, when you speak a word of hope and encouragement, when you pray, when you give, when you help, when you lift up others - that is the greatness not addicted to sin, to serving yourself. That is the greater life of Christ. That makes a difference. That means something. 

And so John baptizes the greater one who becomes least, and Jesus baptizes the least who become greater. For what did St. Paul say today happens in baptism? Not that we continue to sin. No, sin becomes dead to us. We begin to live a new life. A resurrected-with-Christ life. A no-longer-addicted-to-sin, find-my-life-in-sin, life. But a life where sin, death, and devil have no dominion over us. Where we are ruled by them no longer. They will still happen, but we’ve been baptized into the greater one, into Christ. What’s ours is His and what’s His is ours. The life we now live is new; it’s God’s. God’s life given to us in Christ. And so a greater life. A life that will never end.

Being out in the wildermess, clothed with camel’s hair with a leather belt around your waist and eating locusts and wild honey, and then being thrown into prison by King Herod and eventually having his head danced off - many would not think that John had a better life. And maybe not. But Jesus said: among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. 

But then He adds this too: Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he (Matthew 11:11).

That’s what Jesus wants for you. Not just a better life, that’s not enough. But a greater life. A kingdom of heaven life already here, already now. And it’s here for you, in whatever wilderness you’re in, in a font. For as we heard in the reading from Genesis, where there’s water, the Spirit, and the Word of God, there’s life. 

So when you find yourself in the wilderness, and even when you’re not, when you’re in an easier place in life, remember this: that you are baptized. You are a child of God. You have been given a greater life. And you have a meal here that is greater than all others - the very Body and Blood of Jesus. That no matter where you are, no matter how things are going in your life, you have been given this gift. You have a life that matters, that makes a difference, and that will last forever. 

For just as when water, Word, and Spirit got together in the beginning and launched the first day of creation, of life, so water, Word, and Spirit launched the first day of your new life. And when the evening comes for you, when your life here in this world ends, there will then be the morning of a new day, a greater day, for a greater you. Because that’s what Jesus came. That’s why He came to the Jordan. That’s why He was baptized. And that’s why He baptized you. His gift. A greater life. For you and for all. 

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Epiphany of Our Lord Sermon

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Jesu Juva

“At the End of the Journey”

Text: Matthew 2:1-12 (Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12)

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

There’s a story in the New Testament about a rich young man who comes to Jesus and asks: Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life? And in the end, Jesus tells him: Go sell all that you have and give to the poor . . . and come, follow me (Mark 10).

Because there’s something waiting for you at the end of that journey. Something you need that your riches are holding you back from, namely life and joy. You think you have that life and joy now, Jesus is saying to him, with the life you have, with the wealth you have. But that’s only because you don’t know there’s more. Much more. A more that you cannot even begin to imagine. 

Maybe like the first time you tasted something really delicious. You thought you knew what good was, and then you tasted this . . .  Or maybe like the first time you saw a really beautiful sunset, when the sky was awash with color like you’d never seen before. So come, follow me, Jesus says. 

It might not be an easy journey. In fact, it might be quite difficult, with many trials and sorrows and struggles on the way. It might take a long time, longer than you think. It might have detours that take you down ways you did not expect, and maybe don’t even seem right or good. But follow me, Jesus says, and in the end, you will see.

But in this story, the rich young man doesn’t. Instead he goes away sorrowful. He does not taste, he does not see, what he does not know. And we are sad for him.

A sorrow that we should have also for the chief priests and scribes that Matthew tells us about today, who do not go to see the one born king of the Jews. The Scriptures tell them of Him, and that He is not even far away - in Bethlehem. Just down the road. But they cannot follow this word. Maybe they are afraid of Herod, or of losing their positions, or what this would mean for their life. The life they know, anyway. So they do not taste, they do not see . . . their Saviour come for them. 

But the wise men do. And at the end of their journey, they taste and see that the Lord is good (Psalm 34:8).

Have you ever wondered what made the wise men go? Why, the star, you say. Of course. But why did they follow it? They had it all figured out. They saw this star and they figured out what it meant - that the king of the Jews had been born. So, case closed. Move onto something else - the next mental challenge, the next problem or puzzle to solve, the next topic of the day.

But no. They go. They pack up their stuff, take their treasures, and follow this star. I wonder if other wise men ridiculed them, like the ridicule Noah must have received, building a giant boat where there wasn’t even any water! Why go see a king who isn’t even your king? Why give up what you have? Why make a journey you may not come home from?

Well, Matthew doesn’t tell us any of that. Just that they went. Maybe we would ridicule them if we knew why they went. 

But there’s a saying: You’re not wise because you know so much; you’re wise when you know how much you don’t know. And maybe that’s what made these wise men wise. They knew there was more. More they needed. And so they go. 

And at the end of their journey, they taste and see that the Lord is good. 

Oh, I’m quite sure it was not what they expected to see at the end of their journey. But they did not hang on to what they knew or thought they knew. And at the end of their journey, they saw a love they never knew before. A God who would do this for His people. A God who did not come to shepherd His people by bossing them around or flexing His muscles - like all the other gods they ever knew. But by coming like this - a baby. Here was a God who so loved His people that He would become poor and weak and helpless for them. He was not a king like Herod or any of the other kings they knew. This was like seeing that beautiful sunset for the first time! They couldn’t believe it. Except they did. We know, for they fell down and worshiped Him. And they gave their treasures to the poor - to this poor family. They weren’t really treasures anymore anyhow. For now, they had tasted more, they had seen more. Now they were more - more than they were when they started this journey. Now, they were truly wise men.

So they fulfilled what Isaiah wrote, of those who would come to taste and see something new, something never before seen. They are examples of what Paul wrote, Gentiles who are partakers of the promise - the promise that there is something greater, something we need at the end of the journey; something that we cannot now even begin to imagine. And so it is told us, revealed to us. That we, too, might know. That we, too, might go.

It is, in fact, why you come here every week. To taste and see this same Lord. This God who so loves you that He would come here for you, like this. Not bossing you around or flexing His muscles, but to forgive your sins and give you life. 

It is a life that might be quite different than what you expect. It might not be an easy journey for you. In fact, it might be quite difficult, with many trials and sorrows and dangers on the way. There may be surprise detours, and ways that don’t seem right or good. 

Consider the disciples, and their journey. Where did they go? What did they see? Many things, but ultimately the cross. They saw God’s love returned as hatred. They saw God’s goodness rejected. They saw what the journey to the end of our sin looks like - like that. Pain, agony, and death. And while you and I may not have that much pain or agony in our lives, we will have that: death. Joy and life snuffed out by sin and death.

But in Jesus, there’s something waiting for you at the end of that journey. Or, better: someone. He is there. For just as He came into this world and was born for us as a baby, so He came back into this world, rising from the dead. That we too might live. That the end of our journey not be a grave, or worse! - but a life the likes of which we have never seen before. A tasting of goodness and a seeing of beauty that will never end. More than we could ever imagine.

And the disciples, who saw all that - Jesus alive, Jesus dead, Jesus alive again, and then Jesus ascended - became wise men. How so? Well, not only did they fall down and worship Him, they realized their treasures - their life and anything else they had - really weren’t treasures anymore. They had tasted more, they had seen more. Now, like the wise men, they were more - more than they were when they started this journey. Paul too.

And now you. You who do not journey to Bethlehem or follow a star, but who hear the Word and come here. We are sad for those who do not. Who do not come, or who come physically but their minds and hearts are somewhere else. For here is the Body and Blood of the one that makes men wise, that fills us with life, that forgives our sins, that gives us joy and hope, that shows us love, and that makes us more than we are when we start this journey. For we start as sinful children of a human father and mother, but we arrive as forgiven children of our Father in heaven, and brothers and sisters of the King. The King who comes to shepherd and serve and save.

So just as in Isaiah’s day, the call goes out to us: 

Arise, shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.

For behold, darkness shall cover the earth,

and thick darkness the peoples;

but the Lord will arise upon you,

and his glory will be seen upon you.

Yes, the people walking in darkness - we! - have seen a great light (Isaiah 9:2). What are you hanging onto that compares with that? No, come receive your life and your joy, your Saviour, who is here for you.

In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.